


Unforeseen

by AchaeanAchilles98



Category: Gears of War (Video Games)
Genre: A fair bit sad, Damon Baird's Solid B+ Parenting, F/F, F/M, Family, Focus shift, Friendship, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Not a play-by-play of Gears 5, Plus Gears of War: Ascendance spoilers, Promise, Sera's at war again, There IS fun stuff, adjustment, backstory stuff, but there are spoilers, etc - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-03
Updated: 2020-03-01
Packaged: 2021-02-28 03:20:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,696
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22536919
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AchaeanAchilles98/pseuds/AchaeanAchilles98
Summary: Nothing.There’s nothing, for maybe thirty seconds. Thirty lifetimes.And then the night starts to scream.Set just after Ascendance, pre-and-during Gears 5.
Relationships: Damon Baird/Original Female Character, Damon Baird/Samantha "Sam" Byrne, Kait Diaz/James "JD" Fenix, Original Female Character/Fahz Chutani, Original Male Character/Original Male Character
Comments: 7
Kudos: 15





	1. Chapter One: Focus

_I so don’t want to bite it in the basement of a ruined coffee shop. It stinks down here._

_Blood in my mouth. Copper-dirt-metal…that same taste of being at the gym, that one that settles, just a little, on your tongue when you go too hard. I reach up, edging my fingertips along my temple, where a hard fall against the countertop upstairs has left me a nice gash across my scalp. Head wounds bleed a lot, it’s superficial. Don’t panic._

_“You okay?”_

_I raise my head. “Yeah. Um…I need you to look in my pack, okay? There should be some gauze.” The reek of long-rotten coffee grounds, amongst other things, isn’t doing much to help the dizziness. Hazel eyes come spookily into focus just in front of me as gentle hands slip the bag from my shoulders. It’s like the dead of night down here – only a few minutes ago, the sun was shining. But even if the lightbulb still works, and that’s a big if, I won’t dare suggest turning it on._

I refocused my eyes.

That wound hadn’t quite healed yet, but it was still a scabby wine-coloured line amongst my hair if you parted it and looked. It sure didn’t make touching it any more enjoyable.

“…somewhere?”

Great. I took a long breath, rubbing the grit out of my lashes. “Hmm?” I didn’t need to turn my chair around to know Dad had that expression he’d been giving me for the past week on his face. I couldn’t pinpoint what it was, exactly. Concern, relief, psychoanalysis? Who knew? Either way, it made staring at the computer screen in front of me a lot more appealing, my fingers on automatic as I scanned through the files.

“You were miles out. Everything okay?” His tone didn’t give much away, but I knew him.

“I’ve been better,” I groaned, resting my elbow on the desk. “Look, it’s nothing I can’t handle. …Why are we doing this, again?”

“You think I’m gonna just put this information in the hands of…I dunno…Technician Number 3? You said you needed a job a half hour ago, so here we are.” He wandered over, bumped my arm, teasing. A theatrical sigh escaped him. “Guess it’s my fault. I happened to produce the second-most-brilliant mind on Sera, therefore, no-one else is an acceptable substitute.”

“Why don’t you pat yourself on the back a little harder and louder there, Pops?” A smile was tugging at my mouth. I couldn’t help it. “Look, if Adam Fenix’s rocket is still on Azura, what’s to say the thing’s even going to fire? That’s if there’s –”

“Call me overly optimistic. You’re my lab assistant. Use that piece of paper you spent three years getting that says ‘Bachelor of Engineering and Physics’ on it, and you tell me what the probability of getting it past the atmosphere is, Ms. Summa Cum Laude.” I won’t lie, the ball-busting made me feel a lot better. I hated being tiptoed around; he’d never done it before and I hoped he’d stop soon. I pursed my lips.

“I’d have to know what shape the thing was in. And that means –”

“Getting a look at the thing. Exactly. That’s what we’re gonna do. Well, not _we_ , but good enough.”

I chuckled, tipping the seat back to look at him properly. “Okay. So when’re we telling our benevolent First Minister about this? She’ll obviously be thrilled.”

“Yeah, real cute.” He pushed his glasses up onto his head, glancing down at me with a smirk that thawed into a small smile. “Hey. Few more hours, then we’ll go inside and have a couple beers.”

“I can probably accept those terms. When’s Cato getting back?”

“Tomorrow. She’s actually had him since we headed to Speyer; think it’s the most she’s seen your brother in like, eight years. Not like we could ask Cole to let him crash.”

“Pfft. Shit. Guess the world really is ending,” I scoffed, rolling my eyes and righting the chair’s tilt so I could stretch a little. Stiffness had leaked into my muscles over the past five hours. “Whatever. Better him than me.”

Dad hesitated, just for a second. “You know he’ll wanna ask you about what happened. Right? About everything.” Everything. I wished I knew how to talk about it. Even Dad and Sam didn’t know the whole story yet; no-one did, really. Thanks to Del, JD and Kait, they were up to speed until Fort Umson was stripped of its residents, but not much further beyond that when it came to me.

What was it they thought had happened to me? Same fate as everyone else, I supposed. I hadn’t asked. The closest I’d come to knowing was how deep Del had breathed when he’d hugged me on the shores of South Village, and in all honesty, I’d been in far too much shock to even register much else. From the moment I’d broken the treeline, to the coming to in the bed I hadn’t slept in since moving out of my childhood home more than three years before, it was pretty much…black. Gone. What could have been a day or more was completely missing; it’d been a week and I hadn’t even asked what’d happened yet.

Maybe over those beers. A couple, or, y’know – six.

_It’s so quiet out tonight. Seriously, where’s all the wildlife gone?_

_I’m letting Del and JD fix the Fabricator on their own. They have my tools, I’m sure they can work it out – besides, Del practically insisted on doing it without my help, and it’s not like Kait isn’t plenty capable too. Not like making it public knowledge that my father invented the things would do me any favors out here, either. No-one knows, and no-one needs to. It’s nice, actually. Being nameless. All anyone expects of me out here amongst the Outsiders is work. I build, hunt, repair things, cook. I’ve gone to bed exhausted every night for almost five months, and I’m not complaining. Peace. It’s welcome. It’s the way it was before I grew up and more complicated stuff got expected of me._

_I may not have gone on that stupid raid, but I’ll be staying clear of Reyna and keeping my head down for a while. Me, Del, JD – we all still came from the COG, and she hasn’t forgotten. Shit, I can’t either, not after earlier. As difficult as thinking about home makes the whole swallowing business, I have to wonder: does Dad know what Jinn’s done? He can’t. Right? DeeBees have never, ever been given those kinds of weapons, and…okay, he must’ve done the math by now and figured out that I’m wherever the boys are. I wouldn’t be shocked if he knows outright, it’s not like secrecy has ever stopped Damon Baird from knowing something – I could barely hide an extra frigging candy bar from him as a kid, and I’m not the worst liar I know (yeah, hey there, JD)._

_I chew quietly on the bread and cheese I slipped into my pocket earlier in lieu of dinner. I’m technically a physicist specialized in the physics of engineering, not an astronomer, so I can’t say what patterns the stars are supposed to form up there. It’s just nice to look. The moons are dull tonight, and it means I can see them a little easier from my spot in the forest. Okay, so sneaking out isn’t exactly laying low, but I probably won’t get another chance for a while._

_I’m not actually sure who built this shed thing. It’s barely big enough for two people to fit in comfortably, and one lantern on its dimmest setting is good for the whole space. But it has a killer view if you climb out of the hatch and sit on the roof. I keep meaning to fix it up properly – it’s derelict enough that only one spot on said roof is good to sit on without bringing the whole thing down, and I’m monopolizing it right now. Not many people come out here. Me, pretty much. Frankie I guess, tonight, only because she threatened to blab on me. Who knew fourteen-year-olds still do that kind of shit? …Never mind. My kid brother definitely would, and he has a year on her. I blink Cato’s face away; I really need to not think about him right now._

_She’s not too much trouble anyway. Funny kid. Hopefully **her** older sister doesn’t get on my case when we head back. This little thicket’s only a ten-minute walk from the village anyway, and we’ve been gone maybe an hour. I’m sure we can make it back before anyone really notices._

_“Deanna, quit hogging the roof. I wanna look too.” Yeah…just like Cato. Fuck me, okay._

_I ease myself back through the tiny skylight, the soles of my boots quiet on the beaten-earth floor. “Be my guest,” I shrug, mouth still a tad full from my last bite. Frankie’s kinda small for her age, but stocky and sturdy with it, like a mini horse. I’ve seen her lift stuff even I’d think was on the heavy side, and I’ve been in mechanic’s rig since I was five. I’m nowhere near short of muscles. Even so, I should probably give her a boost up, save her trying to use the wooden crate in the corner. “Need a hand?”_

_“I’ve got it,” she answers, frowning in concentration as she gauges the distance up. I sigh under my breath. It’s not hard for me at the best part of five feet eleven – I’m most of the way to bumping my head to begin with – but, she’s gonna struggle. Still, I know what a stubborn streak can make you do. I turn around to the crate to check the oil in the lantern; I didn’t bring that much. Yeah. We should go soo-_

_What’s that?_

_Some kind of noise. I blow out the light, immediately make a one-eighty spin and grab Frankie from where she’s trying to pull herself up, clapping a hand over her mouth and shushing her before reaching up to fit the plywood square back over the hatch. It probably takes me two seconds, but the wrench in my gut makes it feel like minutes. Holy crap, my heart! I let her go. “Deanna, what-?!”_

_“Ssh!” I hiss. “I’m serious, shut it and lie flat on the ground near the window. Someone’s nearby. You wanna get in trouble?”_

_I press my cheek against the ground and cover my own mouth, breathing slowly through my nose to try and muffle the sound. Frankie follows my lead. Goddamn it, I hope it’s Oscar; at least he’ll probably go easier than one of the other hunters who likes me less. The rustling’s getting louder. Where’s it even coming from? I can’t tell – I would’ve thought from the front, but all around seems more accurate. I bite down hard on my lip underneath my hands. I can’t let Frankie see that I have no idea what’s going on, because if she does, she’ll freak. If she freaks, we’re caught, and I’m not willing to let that happen when I don’t know what’ll go down if we are._

_Something else reaches my ears. A soft, inhuman grumbling._

_I can see by the look on the kid’s face that she hears it too. I widen my eyes and glare at her, daring to move my hands to hold a single finger against my lips. The wooden walls creak around us, moaning in time with the breeze and the animal. Animals? Doesn’t matter, I’m far closer to pissing my pants than I ever, ever want to admit. I may as well be in total rigor mortis from fear alone._

_My parents were Gears, are Gears. My grandfathers, the aunt I never knew, almost every person that makes up the group I call family whether they share DNA with me or not is a soldier, a warrior. Where’s their bravery now when it’s supposed to be coursing through my blood? All I feel is nausea; all I want to do is run. From what, mountain lions? Wolves? Worse? Scurrying, outside. None of the predators indigenous to this region sound like that. I squeeze my eyes so tightly shut I see orange, burning behind my eyelids. Please, please – I’ve never prayed before, but whatever powers are here, please let these things pass us by. I clench every single muscle I have as one of the corner beams complains under the weight of something. I’m begging it not to crack and cave. With every fiber of everything I am, I’m holding out for a reprieve, a free pass. Just one._

_A low, vibrating thump, just outside the door. If Frankie’s made a sound in the past few minutes, I haven’t heard it. Bile rises in my throat. My heart rails against my ribcage. Please. Please, no. I didn’t even have the foresight to bring a gun. We’re defenseless. Please, let us go._

_Nothing._

_There’s nothing, for maybe thirty seconds. Thirty lifetimes. I swallow the acid._

_And the night starts to scream._


	2. Never Going Back Again

I hadn’t gone outside yet. I knew Dad was waiting for me on the back patio, waiting until I’d showered or something, until I could bring myself to come downstairs and talk to him – really talk. Even the thought of alcohol to help me along wasn’t doing much to ease me into the idea, and neither was the fact it’d just be him. Sam’d vacated for the evening, having dinner with Marcus and JD at Uncle Gus’ place; Kait and Del were out. The house was as empty as it’d been in a while. Almost made me wish my brother was home.

Fall was creeping quietly into the air from my open balcony door, making me roll down the sleeves of my sweater as the slight chill needled at my skin, turning it to gooseflesh even inside. I wasn’t very good at being cold. Once the temperature started dropping, I was always the first to start wearing thermals. I’d been pretty miserable in Fort Umson, those initial months. Ever want to know how privileged and complacent you are? Go from a cushy studio apartment you can afford with your decently-paying job, surrounded by people you’ve known your whole life (and proper heating) to sleeping in a wooden hut, in a village where the power’s temperamental and you know two people – in the beginning, at least. The only reprieve was working hard enough to warm myself up, and once summer came, you’d best believe I spent every waking second outside. The height of it still lingered in the rich, dark amber of my hands, fired from my skin’s natural dusky olive like clay in a kiln. The door shut with a soft ‘click’ as I pulled it to.

_A twig snaps. I glance behind me, waiting for Frankie to catch up. She’s been quiet, this past day, besides griping about me getting us lost and stepping on a lot of dry branches. I don’t know what to say to her. She’s missing her sister, I’m missing my friends…and we both know neither are coming back. The second I’ve gotten her to South Village, I’m going to have to find my way out to the Stroud Estate. God. I haven’t seen Uncle Marcus since my high school graduation, and now I have to tell him JD’s gone._

_I take a deep breath through my nose. Nope. I can’t think about it yet. I’ve tried my hardest not to, what else can I do? I can’t control what happened, but I can sure try to control how much space and time I give it in my mind until I figure out a more permanent solution, and right now there’s a fourteen-year-old relying on me to keep her safe. I can have my meltdown when she’s in a place with people who can take care of her, as much as she’d say she can take care of herself if I asked. Yeah, okay. Whatever attacked Fort Umson took fully grown adults, but of course, Frankie would be exempt if she faced the same thing. I sigh, hitching my pack further up my shoulders, the modified Longshot I’d found in the armory digging into my back._

_It really wasn’t fun, scavenging supplies. It took half an hour just to calm both of us down to the point where we could figure out a plan, because to put it bluntly, it was a total shit-show once we made it back to the village. Everyone was gone. Like, just, gone. Almost no bodies. Blood splatters, smoke where lanterns were clearly overturned or completely smashed. But very few bodies. Even fewer that were whole, as much as the thought makes me want to puke again, and none of them my friends or Karinna. I think it makes it worse somehow, that lack of closure. For me it does. I made an instant beeline for the workshop the second we’d reached the smashed outer wall, and nothing. No JD, no Kait, no Del; just burns on the ground from the shredded doors. We didn’t see what’d made all that noise, made the mess. I can’t get the silence that followed all that screaming, the yells – I just can’t get it out of my head. It was like being in a sensory deprivation tank._

_One explosion had rent it momentarily, and it was then that Frankie managed to wrestle me off her. I had no other choice but to follow at that point. The shame I felt then still churns my gut despite my best intentions, **knowing** that if the roles were reversed, JD and Del would’ve run in there without question to help me. But what could I have done? Without weapons, without knowing what was going on…I mean, we’d either be where everyone else is right now, or dead. Or, I guess, both. I keep walking. I can at least try to save one person._

I swallowed. Yeah. How’d that one work out for you, Deanna?

Frankie had blamed me, that much I knew. For trying to keep the two of us alive, instead of trying to save the village. Was that heroism? Running into danger blind, knowing there’s likely nothing you could do? I wasn’t the right person to ask, really. And I’d gotten lucky. Within the week I’d found my friends and come home to my family, and now I knew that none of the villagers had been so fortunate. The ghost of a Juvie’s holler, buried deep in my brain, made my hand freeze on the glass pane of the door. Maybe I blamed me too, whether that was rational or not.

What would Dad think? Sam? Cole?

My Nanna Bernie hadn’t been around all that much, but I remembered her as a legend walking around in fur boots, one of the bravest people I’d ever met. Both times they’d had kids, my parents had flipped a coin to see who chose the name (just in case evidence of a cavalier attitude towards having kids was needed), and Dad had managed to win twice. Deanna Bernadette and Cato Augustus; our mother had kept her word, though Cato had privately told me a couple of times that she’d been pretty pissed off he hadn’t included even a semblance of her Kaian heritage. I was just grateful he’d decided against Augusta as _my_ first name.

I tried to imagine what Nanna would say to me. If she’d excuse my decision that Fort Umson was a lost cause. If I could’ve gotten to a gun…okay, this was getting out of hand. I couldn’t keep going in circles, playing the ‘what if’ game. It’d drive me completely certifiable. I scratched irritably at the scab on my temple, my fingertips coming away a little bloody. Great idea, genius, just open that back up. Taking the top part of my hair out of its bun at the back of my head as I slipped out of the room, I ran my fingers through the mane of dark curls, frizzy and undefined from months of not taking care of it properly. Even shoulder-length, it was a bitch to deal with. Note to self – look for a jar of coconut oil, even just for the sake of easing the difficulty level of my mornings. Hey, much easier too to think about my frigging hair rather than my actual problems.

I padded down the hall, the carpet masking every sound my feet might’ve made on their way to the patio. I loved that part of the house, or the garden, depending on your definition. It’d been a major league player in so many of my summers, its cushioned seating a handy bed after a few too many rounds of Thrashball and a lot of potato salad, the tiles worn smooth by traffic in and out. Even once I got older, it became my favourite place to sit in the mornings when I visited home, my coffee cup a warm weight in my fingers as I watched sunlight come trickling over the lawns. I mean, I definitely had to grab a blanket on my way to sit down, but at least there was light pooling from the fixtures – twilight was already settled in, much like Dad. He’d clearly been curled up a while; well, figuratively speaking. When did he get so old?

He wasn’t too old to drink a bunch, however – come on, he was already two beers deep into a six-pack – and his chosen method of greeting was to toss one in my general direction. I twisted the top off, took a pull, and flopped down onto the sofa opposite.

“So. On a scale of one to unbelievably fucked, what’re our chances looking like if we can’t get the Hammer of Dawn back online?” I wasn’t sure I wanted to know the answer, but small talk and I weren’t friends. Part of me probably already did. Hearing it from him, though, would cement it. Comfort could come in weird forms.

“You’ve seen the Swarm, right?” he asked, arching an eyebrow. Yeah, Dad. Closer than I ever wanted to, ever again, but that choice wasn’t mine to make anymore. My face must’ve given me away on that one, because he blew out a long breath, resting his elbows on his thighs. “Then you know what kind of question that is.” A hint of beer lingered on my tongue, souring further as the words sunk deeper into me. I raised the bottle to my lips again, just pressing them meditatively closed against one side of the rim. The fate of Sera or bust – no pressure at all, or anything.

_I try to remember visiting South Village, which I’ve done all of one time. I have a map, but nothing’s better than instinct for direction. Kait can probably find her way through the forest in her sleep with both hands tied behind her back. Could. Fuck me, it’s gonna be a long time until that word doesn’t feel like it’s making macramé out of my colon._

_It’s not that far, from what I remember. Twentyish miles. It just becomes a lot farther, and the journey becomes a lot slower, when you a.) are mourning, b.) have a kid with you, also in mourning, and c.) have to keep doubling back because you’ve taken a wrong turn. Again. Maybe Frankie has a point about me getting us lost, but it’s not as if she’s stepping in or offering alternative routes. I know her friend, Mackenzie, she makes this trip a lot with her twin brother, but I don’t think Frankie’s gone with them. Hell, when I went a couple months ago, I got to sit in a wagon while Oscar drove. The pinnacle of luxury in comparison, plus everyone present wanted to speak to me. I squeeze my eyes shut. I already know I’m gonna regret this one._

_“How’re you doing, kid?” I offer, lagging a little so she can catch up. She scoffs. Oh boy, here we go._

_“Oh, I don’t know. Everyone I know is either dead or gone. I’m stuck with **you** instead of someone who actually knows what they’re doing,” she glares. Well, guess that impression’s in the john. Must be my amazing navigational skills. “You know, everything was fine until you and your dumbbell friends showed up. **You’re** the ones who brought the COG here!” She flings her arms wide, as if that settles it. Right. ‘Kay. _

_It’s the most she’s said in twenty-six hours. I chew my lip. Knew I’d regret it. But something niggles at me, and I have to open my mouth again – I blame the smartassery. It’s just hardwired into my DNA at this point, even when I’m frigging miserable. “You think they were the ones who took everybody?”_

_“Who else? They sent those stupid nut-buckets before.” Pssh. Dad would be thrilled at that terminology, possibly even because the expression’s ‘bucket of bolts’, not ‘bucket of nuts’. I digress. “They must’ve sent bigger ones.”_

_I have to choose my words carefully here. “I’ve never met DeeBees that made those kinds of noises, or moved that fast. They…don’t tend to kidnap people, either.” Granted, I’ve never heard of DeeBees attacking Outsider villages, but I know DBi bots. I know their sounds; I know their movements – I helped design the programming for both the Deadeyes and the DR-1s. I can tell the cadence of their voices from any other sound in the world, the same way I can the voices of my father and brother. It wasn’t DeeBees that attacked Fort Umson. A knot unravels in my chest that I didn’t know was there._

_She’s clearly getting frustrated, I can hear her annoyed huff from ten paces. I gotta bite my tongue, needing to be right isn’t helpful just now. “Well, what ELSE could it be?”_

_I don’t think either of us want that question answered, kid._

“Look, Deanna, I don’t know what happened to you out there, but I know when you’re shielding me from something,” Dad pressed, his tone pointed. “I’ve seen you do it with Del, with JD. Now you and me, we don’t bullshit each other. I’m done not talking about it. Spill.” I brought my eyes up to his, gray against blue. No. We did _not_ bullshit each other. I wanted that back, and if I was going to have to go down into this particular cave shaft, I needed to trust in our particular brand of honesty like it was rope and karabiner. Other people might have called it harsh, even brutal, but the bond it forged was pure carbon fiber.

The breath I’d dragged into my lungs rattled out slowly. “Okay. Uh...you should know, just before anything else - I wasn't on my own.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're making it through this whole exposition-y bit, I promise. Still, hope you enjoyed! I'm looking to update fairly regularly, I'm in the last semester of my undergrad so it's pretty smooth sailing. Let me know what you're liking so far, I do read and reply to comments and it's nice to see people engage with my word. Have a good one!


	3. Chapter Three: I Don't Want To Know

_Slap. Slap. Slap._ I blew out a long breath, my lungs smouldering as my feet hit the sidewalk, music spurring me through the buds in my ears. The city was slowly beginning to stir and stretch out, the rich scent of brewing coffee hugging me briefly as it passed by, floating down the street to tempt the other early risers with its promise of warmth. Hazy early-fall rain misted my face and dampened my hair, a stray curl freed of my high bun and falling over my left eye, my hand automatically reaching up to brush it back now and then. New Ephyra in the five-to-six a.m. grace period was a beautiful place; its buildings glowed with dawn sunlight, and the stores and cafés would start coming back to life as people hurried to work and school.

I used to run like that almost every morning: to college; then to work. DBi’s compound was in the industrial district, and maybe getting the tram would’ve been a good call, but it was one of the only ways I got to exercise. No student I.D., no college-subsidized gym, and while in theory I could use the employee gym, I never had the time even as a low-grade techie. I supposed my new job was a step up. Give me all the crap in the world for taking a job with my Dad ever, at all, let alone twice, but there was one robotics manufacturing firm. One. New Ephyra, the Settlements, didn’t matter – it was DBi or nothing, and I wasn’t about to go get another undergrad. Sure, with physics I could’ve worked for the government (which, I technically now was) but I wasn’t interested in making actual weapons. I never saw the need for it.

Funny how things end up.

If I said I wasn’t kinda stoked about working in a huge private shop constructed to exact specs instead of an industrial lab, I’d be lying. Any engineer would be. I was just far less thrilled about working in Government House, where Jinn could stroll in any time she wanted. Ahh, First Minister Mina Jinn. Yup, I knew her, I’d met her multiple times. She’d even attended my high school graduation – not for me specifically, just to make some speech about the next generation of the COG’s best and brightest, which JD and I had rolled our eyes about. (She should’ve gone to the grad ball after and seen us all drinking 100% not-legal, unsanctioned whiskey from the circulating bottles once the sparkling cider was gone. Inspiring.) The treacly niceties, however, were the least of my problems with her.

I stopped at the façade of the near-theatrical building as dawn bloomed into morning, bending nearly in half, catching my breath. Wandering in, even off the clock, in workout gear probably violated some kind of unspoken dress code given the amount of suits I could see around me, but a.) most of my stuff was technically in storage/an evidence locker somewhere, so my wardrobe choices were limited to raiding Sam’s closet, and b.) …Well, same thing. I still had to go get that, but considering it was an entire apartment’s worth of clothes, books, kitchen utensils, whatever, I was kind of waiting until I could make rent on my own place again. I caught a few disapproving glances as I released my palms from my ankles, stretching up and out before jogging up the steps. …Yeah, I was definitely the most underdressed person there.

I refused to meet the stare of the colossal statues flanking the main hall, watching, judging. The Allfathers. Supposedly, my ancestors, and JD’s; the Bairds and the Fenixes had both helped found the Coalition, not that I’d ever been able to get much out of Dad about any of it. Whatever else I knew came from history classes, and anyone would have a hard time caring about people who’d been dead more than a hundred years before they were even an idea. I was more curious about my immediate grandparents. The one and only time Dad had told me I looked a lot like his own father had caught me so off guard I couldn’t take advantage of it. My eyes were the same color, allegedly. I’d never seen a photo.

It was a relief to slip through the doors of the lab, shrug on the waiting white coat, button it over my leggings and tank top. Apparently setup had only started in the past five days, but, it was already an impressive, stark metal enclave from the orgy of blue, white and gold outside its door. A few bots milled around; installing equipment, heaving monitors onto newly built desks. I called out. “What were you bitching about? This place is great!”

“Well, your Dad’s always got _something_ to gripe about, eh?” Sam smiled at me as she came down the steps from what looked like a smaller storage area, folding her arms. “You should’ve met him a few decades ago; he’s mellowed in his old age.”

I snorted, raising an eyebrow as I grinned in return. “Has he?”

“Pfft. Shit, no.” She wrapped her arms around me, squeezing. “Good run, darl?”

If I’d gotten to choose my stepmom, it still would’ve been her. I’d trust her to have my back no matter what happened; same with Cato. He’d been three to my nine years old when our mother had left, and while he hadn’t taken to the whole Sam idea when she’d first moved in two years later, things had settled down. One would hope, after a decade. “I don’t know how you’re hugging me right now when I smell like I crawled out of a dirty gym sock,” I groaned. “Where’d Dad go?”

“Oh, he’s gone walkabout. Something about finding the nearest coffee,” she chuckled, letting go of me. “I’m sure he’ll be back in a tick. Del’s about, Damon wants to have a chat with him; maybe find him out.” Her brown eyes softened a little, a hand reaching out to grip my shoulder. “It’s good to have you home, little one. I’ll see you later.”

“Yeah. Thanks, Sam.” I watched as she went the way I’d come. It _was_ good to be home – like that stupid expression. ‘You can take the girl out of the city, but you can’t take the city out of the girl’, or whatever. Well. At least in the city I was less likely to come across monsters (the literal kind, anyway) and more able to do something about them. The idea of having the means to _do_ , having input into solving that problem before more people got hurt, now _that_ felt good. Working would mean I could focus on something that wasn’t my own thoughts for a change. I’d spent far too much time with them lately.

_It’s freezing cold. Even in the height of summer, the temperature drops way down at night, and with only the clothes I had on my back two days ago to keep me warm, I’m shivering like a puppy. I pull my jacket tighter around me, huddling further into the leather. Can’t light a fire and bring anything prowling around right to us. My fingers brush the twist of cord around my neck, sealed at the front with a clasp, and my chest tightens at the thought of Sam. Not the one she’d worn when she was my age, but one she’d made for me._

_I really, really wanna go home._

_Frankie’s breath whistles through her nose as she sleeps at the foot of the tree just opposite. I was supposed to wake her for a watch like an hour ago, but I don’t think I can sleep out here. I’m not the easiest sleeper to begin with, and that combined with how sad I am, how scared I am, means it’s probably not gonna happen. I’m **exhausted**. It’s been more than fifty-two hours since I last slept, and we’ve been walking almost nonstop. I think we’re getting closer to the village. Maybe they’ll let me stay a couple of nights, let me eat and rest until I can go back out. If I could, I’d cover my fingers with my sleeves, but I need them for the rifle at my side. I need them in case anything happens. I rub them together instead, trying to create some heat before I take some jerky out of one of my belt pouches. It’s not good, and it takes about ten years to chew, but I’m so hungry that I could be offered pinecones on a platter right now and I’d still eat them. _

_The stars are as bright as they were when I’d been sat on the roof of that little shed. They’re keeping me company along with Frankie’s quiet snores, providing some half-light, some comfort in what would otherwise be pitch-dark. I rub at my eyes a little, trying to get rid of the bleary crap smearing my vision as a yawn stretches my mouth wide. I freeze._

_That noise again._

_The noise from two nights ago, I’m sure of it._

_Oh fuck, what do I **do**?! I can’t wake Frankie up without making some kind of sound, but I can’t let her keep snoring, or leave her here. Shitshitshitshitshitshit! I scramble, trying to come up with something, anything, and my eyes rest on the thick ferns either side of the path. Shifting up into a squat, I make my way to her, nearly crawling. Should I move faster and risk being heard, or risk being seen by whatever this is if I’m going too slow? I’m within arm’s length of Frankie now, trying to breathe as silently as I can through my nose despite the panic coiling in my stomach making it rattle. Very, very gently, I shake her shoulder, praying that for once, just once, she doesn’t give me shit. Nothing. Again, more urgent now, and this time she groans a little, enough to make me put my hand over her mouth. That growl is getting too close; I need to act now. **Now**!_

_I’m forced to scoop her up, half-sliding, half-rolling us down the slope and into the ferns. I can tell we’re covered – I think – as I hide Frankie’s small, stocky body with mine. I have no frigging clue how she’s sleeping through any of this, literally, none, and I almost resent her for it because I’m a nanosecond from shitting myself. She wriggles a little then, so I hiss a ‘ssh’ into her ear, squeezing her arm._

_There’s no way I’m looking. Hopefully, the foliage would be too dense anyway, but if I look up to see whatever’s up there it’d be able to see me too. Head down. Mouth shut. Keep still._

I took a deep breath, scratching at my temple. Okay. The scrunch-and-stuff into the furthest recesses of my mind wasn’t playing out as well as usual.

Well. Duh.

I stashed a thought away to ask if anyone wanted to get drinks later. It worked well enough, talking to my Dad. Everything was still around, but maybe if I spoke to more people, it’d get easier to manage. I was really going to have to consider therapy if this kept up, or at least something that gave me tools I could use to work through it. Soon enough I’d have to start dealing with the really bad stuff. My fingernails poked their way through to get at the scab again, itching at it.

_It’s coming into afternoon and (successful) mile five, I think, when my eardrums explode with more sound than I’ve heard for hours. Like holy – what **is** that?! The droning wriggles into every crevice of my brain, blood throbbing in my ears as I clamp my hands down over them, head snapping up just in time to catch a flash of blue and black belly._

_**A Condor**._

_The giddiness nearly knocks me off my feet, a half-whoop, half-laugh bubbling its way out of me. The treeline’s obscuring it from my view now as it banks right, but wherever it’s going, I have to follow. DeeBees mean help, maybe getting a message to my family. I have no idea why it’s out here, and frankly, I don’t care; it’s the first good sign I’ve had in days. I gasp breath back into my lungs, gaze settling on Frankie as the huge grin on my face dissipates. What?_

_“You know that could them be hitting South Village next, right?” she says pointedly, folding her arms. I really wish she’d give up on this. I’m certain now after last night that whatever’s taking people, it’s not DeeBees. I get Jinn wants bodies inside walls to increase the population, but this is too much even for her, and there’s no way Dad would let it happen. I don’t bother answering this time. Fighting's not gonna get us closer to South Village, and it's not gonna make either of us happier. I keep my lips pressed together and I turn away, back to the path. "Look. Deanna?" I glance back, hazel eyes meeting mine full-on instead of skating past. "Thanks. For last night. I get you're trying."_

Frankie. I wished I could tell her how sorry I was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So technically it's twelve minutes after Saturday here, but new chapter's up anyway! I'll get four done this week, I had an essay due last Friday which was driving me up the wall. Hope you enjoyed!


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